


Season of miracles

by Hectatess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectatess/pseuds/Hectatess
Summary: Christmastime. A season of miracles. And what is more miraculous than the return of a friend? A dead one that is...





	Season of miracles

“So, what are we celebrating? Hanukkah? Kwanzaa? Saturnalia?”  
Sam dropped the candles he was holding. They fell to the floor on a loud clatter that echoed in the hallway.  
“Jesus Christ!” he cussed, cringing with shock.  
A loud, joyeus laugh rang through the Bunker’s hallways.  
“Nope. Sorry bucko, not a fan!”  
Sam turned around, Angelblade at the ready. He gasped when he saw who stood there.  
“Gabriel?!”  
The Archangel spread his arms in a ‘tadaah’ geasture.  
“The one and only, Sammich. How’ve you all been?”

Sam dropped and spun, one leg outstretched. It caught the unsuspecting Archangel in the ankles, and he went down. In a flash, Sam was sitting on top of him, Angelblade pressed against his jugular.  
“I don’t know what you are or how you got in, but you’re not getting out. Gabriel **died** , you asshat. I saw the burnmarks of his wings. I...”  
He didn’t finish that sentence, but the blade got pressed down harder, breaking the skin ever so slightly. A small drop of blood slid down the side of Gabriel’s throat. He swallowed carefully.  
“Easy there, Sam. Contrary to the stakes you used on me before, this thing can kill me. Again...”

Sam got to his feet, hazel eyes flashing and mouth drawn in a bitter sneer.  
“Get up.” he snarled, yanking the shorter man to his feet.  
Hands raised, his captive stood.  
“Come on, Sammy...” he plead, but Sam curled his lip.  
“Only Dean can call me that. Shut up and start walking.”  
He indicated where to, by shortly jabbing the Angelblade that way.  
Gabriel turned and started walking, with Sam pressing the Angelblade to his kidneys.

“Dean?! DEAN?!” Sam hollered.  
No answer. Sam grumbled and motioned to a chair.  
“Sit.” he ordered.  
He sat down opposite, keeping the blade in contact with his prisoner.  
“Talk.”  
The familiar, sassy smirk slid on the angel’s face and Sam gripped the blade tighter.  
“Gee, Sammoose. If this is your hospitality, no wonder most rooms here are empty.”  
Sam narrowed his eyes.  
“You saw...”

“Well, duh, smartass. I wake up in a weird place, first thing I do is check out where the Hell I am. Wouldn’t you?”  
Sam didn’t relax the blade, and sent his best bitchface to the guy with the sunshine-through-whiskey eyes.  
“Wake up? How? Why? You know... never mind. What are you?”  
The guy smiled sweetly and his eyes grew serious.  
“I really am Gabriel, Sam. Ask Castiël, if you don’t believe me.”  
Sam looked down, eyes sad.  
“Cas is MIA. He was looking for Jack and now... not a word in days.”

“Well shit. I hope he’s ok. Who’s Jack?”  
Sam scoffed a smirk on his face.  
“Yeah, right. As if you didn’t disguise yourself as Gabe to get at him.”  
“Samuel William Winchester! How many times? I **am** Gabe. I **am** me... really!”  
Sam narrowed his eyes at him and pulled him to his feet.  
“One way to prove it, jackass. Show them.”

A gasp. Then a mischievous glance and grin.  
“You kinky son of a bitch...”  
The blade got pressed against his adamsapple again.  
“Nothing to do with kinks. Only an angel can do it, so... show them.”  
“Only if you relax that damned thing. I can’t concentrate with that spike against my esophagus.”  
Sam lowered the blade, but it’s point rested against the guy’s sternum.  
“Show. Them. Now.” Sam intoned flatly.

Thunder sounded and lightning flashed. Against the wall behind Gabriel, six gigantic shadow wings appeared, unfurling slowly.  
Sam dropped his Angelblade and covered his mouth with both his hands.  
The blade changed to the floor and rolled under the table.  
“Gabriel...” Sam gasped out.  
“Told ya, bucko. The one and only...” Gabe joked.  
Sam let out a strangled sound, eerily like a sob, and wrapped the shorter man in a crushing hug.

“I thought you died. God... Gabriel...”  
Gabe patted him awkwardly on the back.  
“There there, Sammoose. It’s ok. I really did die, but somehow, I’m back. I heard my name called out, and I woke up. All dark and nothing, until...”  
Sam let go and smiled.  
“Until you met a cosmic entity?”

Gabriel tilted his head.  
“How would you know? Only angels and demons go there. It told me. Wearing Castiël’s face, it told me to shut up and go back to sleep. All the other angels and demons were sleeping. Not a single one was awake, and it would love to join us in our eternal sleep.”  
He scoffed.  
“Heh... boy, did it not know who I am...”

Sam sniggered.  
“Cas is more like you than you know... He came back a few weeks ago, having pestered the entity in letting him go.”  
Surprise coloured Gabe’s face.  
“He what now?”  
Sam smiled proudly.  
“Yeah. Lucifer killed him, and he woke up, just like you, because his name was being called. Then he met the enitity from the Empty. It looked just like him and it tried to get him to go back to sleep. He refused and told it that to get peace, it would have to send him back here. It hurt him, tortured him, but he didn’t cave, so, in the end, it booted him back here.”

Gabriel whooped.  
“That’s my baby brother! Way to go, Castiël! So it knew about our stubborn streak... No wonder it didn’t put up much of a fight after I declined its offer of eternal Naptime. It just sighed, muttered something that, in hind sight, probably was something like “Not another one...” and I woke up here. In an old, musty bedroom.”  
Sam smiled, eyes shining happily.  
“That’s kinda the only sort we have, except for the ones Dean, Cas, mom and I use.”  
Gabriel frowned.  
“Wait, what? **Mom**?!”

Heavy boots made their way to the kitchen.  
“Sam? I’m back. Gonna make an AWESOME pumpkinpie!” Dean called out, arms laden with groceries.  
He put them down on the counter and looked around.  
“Sammy? I thought you’d decorate. Did you forget the kitchen?”

A soft cough had him turn around.  
“About that...Something came up.” Sam said, apology written all over his face.  
“Oh, really? Case? Or... Cas?” The last word sounded hopeful.  
Sam bit his lip.  
“No. Neither...”  
Dean narrowed his eyes at how Sam was fidgeting.  
“Then what?”  
“Hello!” came a jaunty call and Dean’s jaw dropped.  
“No....” he breathed, as a 5’7” guy popped up from behind his sasquatch brother.  
“Yes sir-ee! I’m back! Hi Dean-o! Did I hear you say pumpkinpie?”

Dean sank into a chair and started laughing until he cried.  
“Of course... if Cas can, you certainly can...” he finally managed, shaking his head.  
Gabriel was beaming at him and Dean started chuckling again.

Then Gabe turned to Sam.  
“So, Sammich. I reiterate: what are we celebrating? Hanukkah? Kwanzaa? Saturnalia?”  
Sam chuckled, took something from a cardboard box, and held out his clenched hand.  
Gabe held out his own hand, palm up, to take whatever Sam was holding out.  
It dropped into his hand, small and yet heavy.  
He looked at it and his eyes stopped twinkling.  
“Oh... that...” he said and placed the tiny, swaddled figurine on the table.  
“Not even his real birthday, you know? He was a Leo...”


End file.
